Time's Keeper - Nexus of Decision
by Thewatcherobserves
Summary: When a transporter malfunction displaces Uhura in the space-time continuum the alien known as the Traveler explains her situation and her importance; her choice holds the key to protecting time itself. What impact will her decision have on her own reality? Kirk/Uhura, Spock/Uhura, alternate-alternate universe, sci-fi, family, drama, romance
1. Chapter 1

**Time's Keeper - Nexus of Decision**

**Ma Anders**

**Author's Note:**_This story represents a fork in my universe. Until this piece, all of my writing inhabits a single universe anchored by my story "Ti(m)es That Bond" (to be published Fall/Winter 2013) and "Adaptation". Read them first for context._

_This story forks me out of that universe and creates an alternate-alternate universe._

_All non-original characters belong to their respective owners. Story concept, settings and plot belong to the author in whole or in part. No portion of this material may be reproduced, transmitted, used or modified in any matter on any media without the author's and/or owners' express written permission. Portions copyrighted._

_Send reviews and Enjoy!_

* * *

"Scotty! Get us out of here!" he shouted into the communicator.

That familiar disassembling that accompanied all transporter beaming came over her. They'd be alright. Again.

_I hope we never get our asses kicked when the transporter is down for maintenance _Uhura thought.

Her scattered atoms, still cognizant of what was happening, became impatient then irritated at the lengthy time to reassembly.

_Bad time for the transporter to screw up. Come on, Scotty! I need to get dinner on before Grayson's school play starts. Get your ass in gear._

On the verge of genuine anger at her continued state on non-being she missed his entrance out of... the ether? Tall and wearing a jumpsuit out of Liberace's closet he walked directly to her and reached out for her... hand? with his.

The bluish tint to his skin didn't faze her; her Orion roommate at the Academy had been a vibrant green all over. His fused digits did cause a raised eyebrow, the pinky and ring fingers sharing skin as did the index and middle. Despite this she took the proffered hand and was pleased to see a corporeal representation of herself appear next to him.

_Okay. I know I got hit by some kind of weapon. I wasn't unconscious when they energized the transporter. Might be hallucinating. Damn! McCoy will put me back on medical leave if he finds out. Chauvinist; he never puts the other bridge crew on leave. Len and I are gonna have to discuss this when I get... Hmm... My imagination seems to be waiting to talk to me._

Her eyes caught the quiet attention being paid by her imaginary companion. When her mind returned to the present - whatever that meant in her hallucination - she felt a tug on her hand, intended to move her in a direction. Her instinctive reaction was resistance; no man.. no male was going to take her anywhere against her will.

Cutting cat-like slits at him, her escort surprised her by inviting her to accompany him with the simple word "Come" in the most soothing tenor voice she'd heard in a while.

_It's a hallucination. What can go wrong? Of course, I've said that same thing about countless away missions and look where I am... *sigh... Mental note: set up training classes to teach my ENTIRE communications department all the languages I already know._

"Lead, on." she said, sweeping her free hand palm up to indicate her readiness to accompany him.

As they walked the glittery gray fog she always associated with being in-between atomic and composite states began to darken and solidify. They walked into a starless night with no discernible or identifiable destination, but his direction remained certain and his pace never slowed.

The feeling of vertigo prompted her to look down.

Beneath her feet lay a map, similar to those used for communications topologies or commercial aviation routing maps in the past. Light beams moved in direct lines in and out of circular nodes. The light shimmered and pulsed giving the impression of movement; her vertigo and nausea stemmed from her attempt to determine her balance point in the dark, to avoid falling towards the map under the transparent flooring. They walked on glass in a place with no horizon to calibrate on. Her guide placed his other hand over hers in the hand he held. Her stomach gently quieted.

_Why is it always my gut? Every time something happens, my stomach takes it seriously..._

_Because, Nyota Uhura, you are different than your family and peers._

The voice startled her; she gave serious scrutiny to this individual for the first time since the hallucination created him.

Sensing her unease with telepathic communications in this situation, her mind-created alien resorted to spoken word to allay her fears.

"What you see before you are strands of time. Each hub represents a major and necessary event in the time-space reality to avoid time's end."

She thought about this for a moment before responding.

"That makes no sense. Multiple paths exist to some and others seem to go off into nothing."

"That is indeed how time works. Some paths have unique, defining events. Others come together along alternate routes that still arrive at a common key event. And some disappear."

For the first time she considers that she is losing her mind, that the transporter pattern buffer is losing her continuity and this is what it means to die in a transporter accident. Being who she is/was, she asks a question, and that is the beginning of everything.

"Who are you?"

"In your world, I am called a Traveler. We are guardians of time, we ensure its continuity by encouraging those like yourself."

"Explain yourself." she commands, directing that no-nonsense stare of hers at him. His Buddha-like smile moves imperceptibly - unless you're bonded to a half-Vulcan, then it moves noticeably.

"You are the culmination of many timelines converging. You are a time catalyst; the choices you make change this map. You have the ability to add, adjust or delete what events will become anchor points in time."

She allowed herself a genuine laugh until she realized he was serious. His expression told her this was more than Death-By-Pattern-Buffer or an injury-induced hallucination. Trouble was, she didn't understand _*why*_ she knew this was real.

"You see it, do you not? You know this experience is real, that you stand outside time and space as humans understand it."

The human comment pissed her off.

"I'm human. I have a half-human husband and son to prove it."

"Forgive me. I spoke imprecisely. You are **more** than human. As are your progeny."

_My kids; he's talking about kids I'll have in the future. Wonder what the future means in this case..._

"You see. Already you think about the parallel streams simultaneously. But we must move on as your shipmates will soon undo the modification I made in the transporter to meet with you.

"Nero -" and he waves his hand over the map. Lines within the map changed color to a sickly blood red. This color infects some of the events - the time nexus anchor discs - in the map, discoloring them in a variety of ways.

"- damaged the time map in many ways. Selek - you know him as Spock Prime, the older instance of your Vulcan bond mate - attempted to prevent this disruption through use of red matter without understanding its dangers. His efforts created the changes you see here."

The map changed again, rust color spreading over the map, sometimes joining the Nero red, sometimes impacting other paths and circles.

Considering this for some time she provided the answer, exasperation dripping from every phrase.

"Look. If you know this and understand the consequences, just fix it. Either put Vulcan back in the past or save Romulus in the future. This isn't rocket science if you can control time."

For the first time his placid expression changes, becoming one of compassionate sadness.

"Unfortunately Travelers cannot change time. Only those gifted as you and Grayson are and as all your children will be can do so."

All of a sudden, she figures some of it out.

"That's why there are multiple paths! Something unexpected, unplanned happens leading away from a needed event in time - like if Zephraim Cochran had been killed before achieving warp - and these time catalysts get it back on track."

His smile brightens a bit. She's working her way through the logic. Like they all ultimately do.

"Multiple lines means I can't change what's happened. If I could the divergent paths would get clipped. I can only influence the future. How?"

"I have visited many of your people. I am amazed each time I experience your talents. You are truly remarkable."

"So how do I fix this?" she asks, all Star Fleet officer now.

"The two conjunction points you see here and here -" he points to two discs that have changed color to grey. They sit along paths parallel to those affected by Nero and Spock Prime. No full connections exist between these discs and the map at-large. Tentative connections send occasional pulses but clearly something is broken.

"- these cannot co-exist. For these impacts to resolve only one of the grey discs, one of the outcomes, can occur."

"So what are they?"

"In one, Romulus and the Vulcan remnant reunify leading to discussion between the Federation and the Romulan Empire. In the other, Vulcan's remnant expands prodigiously, expanding Federation influence."

He's too calm and she's not that young any more. There have to be consequences; there are always consequences.

"So what's the catch?"

"In one the Vulcan gene pool will disappear as a separate race of people. In the other Romulans will disappear as a separate race of people. Their uniqueness will be expressed through those that carry the root DNA, like yourself and Grayson."

She thinks she can hear Scotty, cursing in Scottish and Irish Gaelic interchangeably. They're close to bringing her back.

"You must hurry. Your decision, either way, will resolve these alternate ripples to this -" and with a hand wave she sees the red and rust disappear as a new light path leads on to the future.

"I can't make that choice! My husband and son are Vulcan, for God's sake!"

"You were conceived for this choice, Nyota Uhura. Without it, this happens -" and for the last time, he waves his arm and blood seeps across uncountable timelines and events. Nero - and Spock Prime, if she's honest - have seriously jacked up the time-space continuum.

"I have a question -" she starts.

"Hurry! This opportunity is passing..."

"Dammit, you owe me this. Will I remember this choice - will I know what I did?"

"If you wish to. They are bringing you back. Will you repair time?"

"Yes! Save the Vulcan race!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**_This story represents a fork in my universe. Until this piece, all of my writing inhabits a single universe anchored by my story "Ti(m)es That Bond" (publication Fall/Winter 2013) and "Adaptation". Read them first for context._

_All non-original characters belong to their respective owners. Story concept, settings and plot belong to the author in whole or in part. No portion of this material may be reproduced, transmitted, used or modified in any matter on any media without the author's and/or owners' express written permission. Portions copyrighted._

* * *

Already her hand leaves his. The vertigo and nausea return because she's flying or floating, it's hard to tell. Black recedes changing back to the gray sparkle she's used to in the transporter beam. She notices the Traveler's voice in her head again.

_The Watchers honor your choice Nyota Uhura. The Continuum will observe..._

She loses the end of his sentence under one of her own -

"And I don't want to know!"

She sees the Traveler's blue smile, then the gray sparkles then -

"Got her! Sweet Mother Mary, you gave us a scare there lassie! You've been in there neigh on 40 minutes!" comes through in heavy Scottish brogue.

"Move! Get her on the med bed! Get out of the way, man! Let me treat her!"

In pain, foggy and sick she still smiles - McCoy is yelling at her husband who has her in his arms.

"Sick.." she croaks and he gently turns her over to vomit down the side of his uniform, never stopping his power run to SickBay. She hears Len following, screaming at him to put her on the gurney.

_Ain't gonna happen, Len. Only one can get me out of his arms is me._

When she wakes she's on a med bed in SickBay and Leonard McCoy starts the lecture immediately.

"I'm putting you on medical leave indefinitely."

"Leonard, _why _am I always of medical leave? I have fewer serious injuries than anybody on the bridge crew. It's not fair, Len, and you know it."

"Sue me! There're some guys been waiting to see you although given your bad **attitude** I cannot imagine why.

"Come on in," McCoy yells to the two worried visitors "she's back in bitch mode."

"I heard that Len!"

"I would hope so since you are the ONLY woman I'm not married to or sleeping with -"

Uhura notes her husband's expression at this part of Len's rant.

"- who has me yelling and raising my blood pressure AGAIN!"

Her family approaches her beside. Poor Grayson has been crying.

"Come here, sweetheart! I am fine, I am."

Making room on the medbed - McCoy was nice enough to put her in one of those new doubles they use for obstetric deliveries - she let's the boy lay next to her, holding him close and kissing his face and hair. He's terrified and broadcasting his fear for her.

"Were you scared for me?"

Unable to speak, Grayson nods in her arms.

"I promise you I'm okay. Do you want to check for yourself?"

That brings his head up with another nod, one eyebrow raised. She's seen this expression - minus the emotion - so many times she grins.

_Son, that's your Spock expression. I know where you got that._

She gives the point of his ear an affectionate rub.

"Go ahead - but don't take too long. Your father and I need to talk."

He scans her, fixing a few things Dr. McCoy missed, small hurts he's allowed to take care of for his family. Then he smiles.

"Satisfied? Now, scoot! Go help Dr. McCoy fix his PADD. I can hear the profanity in here."

They're alone and he's furious. So furious she's not sure he'll listen to her explanation. It's not that he's breathing hard or venting emotion. It's all in the eyes, those deep pathways into what he's really thinking.

"Why did you go?" he asks in deadly earnest.

"Because no one else on this ship speaks all three languages. You know that."

"So you decided to take the risk."

"What risk!?" she barks back at him.

She's frosted herself now. How could she predict that peaceful negotiations would turn into the Gunfight at the OK Corral when the head of the guerilla faction discovered his pregnant wife's baby came courtesy of the revolutionary faction's lead negotiator?

"When were you going to tell me?" he asks sotto voce.

_Here we go... *sigh..._

"When I got back from the negotiations. It had no bearing on my ability to do the mission."

"I disagree"

"Of course you do! This isn't about the away team or the mission!"

"Did you plan this?"

"Not intentionally."

"Did we discuss it?"

"Not in so many words. Look, spit it out! I'm tired of dancing with the 900 pound gorilla in the room!"

"I know your ambitions in Star Fleet. I have never interfered - in fact, I support your choices for the most part. But this is my child too."

_Okay Husband, ask the question you're really scared of..._

"Are you going to terminate the pregnancy?"

Her expression change crashes into her features mixing shock, indignation and anger. These are all replaced with hurt as the tears come.

"As long as you've known me, been married to me, you would ask me that?"

"Your silence on the subject made me wonder if it was an accident you wanted to deal with privately."

The eyes haven't left hers. It's her turn to test him, to make sure she's receiving his signal clearly.

"Do you want me to terminate, seeing as we really didn't decide this together?"

Now it's his turn for shock, outrage and fear. Now she can read him like a book.

It's there; he's so happy he can barely contain it and he's scared as hell she'll terminate the pregnancy. With Grayson in school she's had a few years to really focus on being the kind of officer she dreamed of being back at the Academy. This pregnancy would slow that trajectory down - for the second time.

"Let's start over: I'm pregnant, about six weeks. With twins, by the way"

_Chew on that Mr. Stud Muffin..._

"There are no twins in my family."

"Well there are plenty in mine so I'm not exactly surprised. Not to mention my husband keeps my hormones regulated almost every night."

His hand moves her medbay gown and rests gently on her abdomen; she rests her own over it, closing her eyes as the twins meet their parents.

When she opens her eyes again, he's relieved.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**_This story represents a fork in my universe. Until this piece, all of my writing inhabits a single universe anchored by my story "Ti(m)es That Bond" (publication Fall/Winter 2013) and "Adaptation". Read them first for context._

_All non-original characters belong to their respective owners. Story concept, settings and plot belong to the author in whole or in part. No portion of this material may be reproduced, transmitted, used or modified in any matter on any media without the author's and/or owners' express written permission. Portions copyrighted._

* * *

"Hey Len! When can I go home?"

McCoy walks in with Grayson in tow.

"Does he know?" McCoy asks. Len has never mastered bedside manner or subtlety.

"Well thanks to that announcement, I guess so." she laughs.

"Then you're on medical leave until I say otherwise. Send Grayson by after school in a couple days and I'll give him your pre-natals. Get dressed and get the hell out of my SickBay."

McCoy starts toward his office before getting a last zinger in.

"When Grayson came out alone I thought you two were gonna christen that new medbed. Not that it would have accomplished anything."

Despite the pain, she laughs until she cannot focus through the tears.

Days later her guys come in together, one with dinner and snacks and the other with her pre-natals. As she expected, mornings are rocky but by afternoon she's ravenous through the evening until bedtime. Satiation requires her husband, not just her food.

Grayson knows now and can't wait to tell his school friends. Being pregnant on the Enterprise isn't so unusual anymore. He was the first baby born on the ship, a status he continues to leverage with the younger kids. Family time gets extended tonight as they discuss the changes the pregnancy will bring to their family routine. With hugs and kisses they leave his room and transition to their own.

"Are we still headed for New Vulcan?"

"For another half day. Completion of StarBase NV-1 will require a few more weeks so the Enterprise will assume orbit. Work crews will shuttle down if needed. When will you start teaching your language classes?"

"I'm hoping two weeks if the Chief Medical Pain-in-the-Ass will take me off of medical leave."

"He has good reason."

"Yes - because I'm female and he was conceived and born in the 19th century."

"Because you can be cavalier with your own safety."

"Coming from you!? Please! Suicide mission is the only mission in your vocabulary!"

"Sarek called. He wants us to come to dinner day after tomorrow. Are you up to it? He asked if we could come for the day, but I let him know you were pregnant and suffered morning sickness"

Both chuckle at this as she sits in his lap. Carrying twins, sitting in his lap won't be possible for too long.

"That's an understatement" she almost groans.

"I know you two visit the memorial cemetery whenever you're there. Grayson and I will come with you this time." he tells her quietly.

"You don't have to."

"It's time, Ny. Grayson needs to understand his Baba was a hero. He needs to know that New Vulcan wouldn't exist without Spock's sacrifice. That would have been destroyed too."

A memory, a thought, nags at the back of her mind at the mention of Spock and his grave on New Vulcan. She kisses the man who owns the lap and looks into his crystal blue eyes. The nagging dissipates and fades away.

"Sarek asked me if we'd considered sending Grayson to school on New Vulcan."

"What do you think?"

"We're going to be stationed here at least 3 years. I think New Vulcan can keep his brain occupied better than the school here on the Enterprise and it's a chance for him to really learn about his Vulcan heritage. What do you think?"

The answer comes from a voice that should have been asleep half an hour ago.

"I think Daddy's right!"

"This is an ambush! Let me think about it."

Standing, Jim Kirk carries his pregnant wife to bed, making a note to review First Officer Sulu's duty roster and away team assignments more carefully lest his wife sneak away from him again.


End file.
